


Apocalypse Syndrome

by savanting



Series: Kashimalin's 50 Kisses Challenge [15]
Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shoujo Kakumei Utena Aduresensu Mokushiroku | Adolescence of Utena, everything is real, movie compliant, nothing is real, off-screen sex, trigger warning for cutting and scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savanting/pseuds/savanting
Summary: Utena Tenjou has problems - but she doesn't realize the half of it. One-Shot.[Prompt 28. One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.]Using Kashimalin's 50 kisses prompt list: https://www.google.com/amp/s/kashimalin-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/178524845380/50-kiss-prompts/amp
Relationships: Himemiya Anthy/Ohtori Akio, Himemiya Anthy/Tenjou Utena, Kiryuu Touga/Saionji Kyouichi, Ohtori Akio/Tenjou Utena
Series: Kashimalin's 50 Kisses Challenge [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023708
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Apocalypse Syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own _Revolutionary Girl Utena_.
> 
> Well, thanks, @Five_seas, I have finally explored what I potentially wanted for a _Utena_ sequel (maybe an OVA?). I love the original anime, I love the manga, and I love the movie - but here is my take on what I would have done with the main characters if given the chance. I know it's not up to Ikuhara level, but still I tried my best. Enjoy!
> 
> Link to the original kiss prompt list: https://www.google.com/amp/s/kashimalin-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/178524845380/50-kiss-prompts/amp

The Ohtori Medical Facility may as well have been a tomb for Utena Tenjou. It was the end of her first week of being there, and already she was bored: group therapy was an awkward exchange of quibbles while activities involved all the patients trying to channel their “inner creative impulses.” The only thing that had succeeded in making Utena smile today was seeing a boy named Shota drawing what looked like an epic battle between a dragon and a princess.

“Isn’t the _prince_ supposed to be fighting for that princess’s honor?” she asked, a taunt to her voice even though she knew she should have tread more carefully: Shota may have had the mind of a ten-year-old, but his body’s age would have made him Utena’s _senpai_ in any other environment.

Shota glowered at her. “There are no such things as princes,” he said.

Utena thought to argue - _”Haven’t you ever heard of Europe’s royal families?”_ \- but she kept herself at bay. What was the point? Who was she to dictate what the other boy believed? And, besides, hadn’t she said the same thing when no prince saved her the night of Aunt Yurika’s year-end party?

Utena wouldn’t be here if one of the company gossips - colleagues of her aunt’s - hadn’t caused a panic by saying Utena had been trying to jump off the high-rise balcony. She had been a little tipsy from the wine she had nicked from the refreshment table, and so she had thought she would like to dance. She had pretended she was a ballerina from a story; her body was slim and long, the way many dancers craved they could be, but Utena had more muscle than the willowy dancers who were usually preferred. Now her only tie to ballet was through the yearly showings of _Swan Lake_ and _The Nutcracker_.

It was for the best, she tried to tell herself, but that hadn’t stopped her from twirling along the balcony, snowflakes kissing her skin, until someone had screeched.

The next hour or two after that were a blur. Someone called the paramedics. The party-goers quickly began to dissipate from the hint of scandal. Someone, maybe Aunt Yurika, ushered her inside and put a blanket around her shoulders. The next thing Utena knew, she was nodding along to the advice that she be taken to a nearby facility because “it’s not uncommon during the holidays for depression and suicidal thoughts to flare up.”

The history of Utena also sleeping in a coffin when her parents had died years and years ago only helped as a strike against her.

It was all so very strange.

“Don’t you worry,” one of the paramedics told her. “Ohtori has the best psychiatric department in the country. You’ll be well-taken care of.”

Even then, she hadn’t quite believed it.

And the first few hours, as the liquor wore off, hadn’t been the best.

“I can undress myself,” she had snapped at one of the nurses, who just raised her hands in response.

“All right, Tenjou-san,” the nurse said. “Just let me know if you need help, okay?”

Utena shook her head as she shrugged on the patient gown, but she still felt guilty for snapping like that.

Then that morning she had met with Dr. Ohtori, whose eyes were the kindest she had seen since her stint on the balcony. No judgment, no remarks, just honesty and transparency.

It also helped that he was quite handsome.

“Tenjou-san,” he said with a warm smile. “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, but rest assured that you’re in a safe place.”

She had nodded, feeling stars litter her mindscape as she imagined white horses and princes clad in white and the kind of fairy-tale she had once only dreamed of.

If anyone could save her, it would be a man like him.

Utena would be embarrassed later, thinking her mind had simply run away from her, but still - the first time she met Dr. Ohtori was the first shred of hope she had felt in the months following her failed ballet audition.

Back then, she hadn’t realized devils could be saviors sometimes too.

*

A week into her stay, Utena was witness to quite the scene: a young woman, her hair disheveled and her dark skin glowing with sweat, was brought in on a gurney. The nurses tried to keep her restrained even as she moved back and forth restlessly against her bindings. Her screams filled the air, but there were no words to discern. It was a language Utena herself had never heard before.

It was like something out of a movie, as they rushed the young woman down the hall and around a corner to the monitored rooms. Utena tried to appear like she was minding her business as she looked at the selection of small milk cartons in the refrigerator near the nurses’ station. In truth, she was simply prolonging the moment before the nurses, inevitably, would talk.

“This is the third time,” one of the nurses said, in a voice that was far from hushed. “I don’t understand why they keep bringing her here. She’s a lost cause.”

“Do _you_ want to tell that to Dr. Ohtori?” another young nurse asked. “It’s bad enough that he has custody of her; now she’s a burden at the hospital too.”

“I’d send her overseas, make her some other place’s problem,” a male nurse said. “Get it over and done with. There’s no helping someone like her.”

Utena frowned, picking out a carton of strawberry milk, but she lingered nonetheless. So who _was_ this new girl? And was she really precious enough to Dr. Ohtori to enjoy such care?

“Tenjou-san.”

Utena nearly jumped, only to see one of the youngest nurses - Shinohara-san - standing beside her and smiling. “Y-yes?”

“It’s almost time for group therapy before lunch,” Shinohara-san said. “Just wanted to remind you in case you had forgotten.”

Utena nodded, realizing she was very casually being driven away, but the question still lingered: who _was_ that girl?

*

After lunch meant the one thing Utena was learning to look forward to every other day: a one-on-one therapy session with Dr. Ohtori. When she was brought to the counselor room, she saw Dr. Ohtori flipping through a file, and his face looked...pained. Normally, he looked put-together and at ease, but today there was a jitteriness about him, especially from the way his crossed leg shook.

“Ohtori-sensei?” Utena asked, jolting him out of his concentration. He responded first by flipping the file shut.

“Tenjou-san,” he said, his grin returning to his face. And she relaxed at that. He was still the prince of her dreams as long as he was able to smile just like that. “Sit down, please. I’d nearly forgotten we were meeting today. How is your stay coming along?”

 _Better every time I see you,_ she thought, but she was too much on the bashful side for that. Instead, she took the chair opposite him, the table the only thing between them.

“I’m managing,” she said, trying to train her voice to be bright. “I don’t quite get the cognitive therapy approach, but everyone is patient with me.”

“Cognitive therapy is not easy in practice,” he said. “It takes time to reevaluate our own mind-sets and the doubts and traps that come with them. Believe me when I say you’re doing very well already.”

_Is that how it is with that girl? Do you have to reevaluate every time you deal with her?_

She had so many questions, but she was realizing too quickly just how attached she was becoming to Dr. Ohtori. She had had a weakness for men in control for the majority of her teens, even though she had graduated high school already. Her last boyfriend, Touga Kiryuu, had left her for his best friend - a boy they had both known since elementary school. Not the best boost to self-worth with _that_ scenario.

Every other boy had just been another to stand in and take the place of a man she was ever waiting for, someone who would make all the puzzle pieces in her life click together as if there had never been any trouble in the first place.

“You’re quiet today, Tenjou-san,” Dr. Ohtori noted. But, unlike previous sessions, he wasn’t jotting down notes as the time drew on. In fact, he hadn’t even opened his notepad. And the way he was looking at her - cheek in hand, leaning on the table, assessing her with those fathomless blue eyes - she easily could have imagined they were on a date as he tried to pry all her dearest secrets from her, one by one by one until he reached the heart of who she was - and who she wanted to be.

Utena took the easy route, however: she laughed. “I know you won’t believe me, but I never intended to kill myself that night. I have too much to live for.”

Those were the words he wanted to hear, right? The gentle words of a kind, sweet, and untroublesome patient?

But instead of looking encouraged, Dr. Ohtori narrowed his eyes. “Are you really sure about that?” he asked, voice soft. “No matter what tools we give you or how keen you are to use them, you still may just fail at the next roadblock. Such patterns happen, especially with certain patients who can’t let go of being the victim. Are _you_ playing the victim here, Tenjou-san?”

The words felt like a slap with the way they were served, so coldly and dispassionately that she found her hands shaking in her lap. Was this some type of reverse-psychology? Was he trying to get her to air her deepest, darkest secrets? Did he even have that right, professional psychiatrist or not? 

“I don’t understand where you’re going with this,” Utena said after a moment. She offered an uneasy laugh. “I’m putting my time in here, I’m doing the best I can in therapy, and I _do_ have a purpose that I can’t give up on.”

There was silence - until Dr. Ohtori lifted his hand, palm outward, to her. “Humor me, Tenjou-san, if only for a moment.”

Utena stared at the hand offered to her. Then, with trembling fingers, she grasped his open hand.

The next moment, she was lifted away from her chair, and she found herself straddling the doctor’s lap.

“Ohtori-sensei, what-?” But he didn’t let her finish because the next moment his hands were sliding down her sides.

“How many people know you have suffered from an eating disorder?” he asked, and again Utena felt struck by a blow. Weren’t psychiatrists supposed to ease their way in and probe for answers rather than asking straight-out how things were?

She ducked her head, trying to hide her embarrassment - and shame. “I’m fine now,” she murmured. “I still count calories, but I’m better. It was worse when I was still dancing. When I - when I was still auditioning.”

“It’s as if you’re a bird made up of only bones,” Dr. Ohtori said. His hands traveled upward again, fingers hovering over what little curves she had left. Utena nearly felt like gagging because it had been so long since someone had touched her this way - and she wanted it to stop. She didn’t want to be reminded of her unlovable body; it was bad enough she saw it in the shower and in the mirrors and in the outlines of her clothing every single day.

“Ohtori-sensei, please, I don’t think-”

His fingers found her face as tears dripped down her face. “The greatest lie they’ll ever tell you is that you deserve to be loved,” he said. “No one deserves love. Not gods or devils or anything in between. We make our own choices, each and every one, and someone someday will tell you they love you - and it’ll be up to you to believe it or not.”

Tears continued to gush out of her. “Could you love _me_ , Ohtori-sensei?”

The man was quiet for a long moment before he brushed her hair back from her shoulder. “Even if I told you yes, would you believe it?”

Utena’s silence after was evidence enough.

*

What started as a simple question turned into a battle of sorts. Every other day, Utena would meet with Dr. Ohtori in the counseling room - and inevitably she would usually end up splayed on the table, her back flush against the wood, as Dr. Ohtori tried to show her how lovable she could be. Even though they had to keep quiet, no one was any the wiser to the trysts between them.

The beauty of it was that no one was any the wiser to this little charade. And that somehow made it even more gratifying than it would have been otherwise. Outside the Ohtori Medical Facility, everything would be normal: the surprise, expectation, and even the danger would be gone.

Here, in this cocoon, Utena could be loved and cherished as she could never be in the real world.

But there was one thing: he wouldn’t let her call him by his first name. _Akio_ was off-limits to her.

The one time she had uttered his name while he had been inside her, he had immediately clapped a hand right over her mouth. “Don’t,” he said. “Never say my name.”

But everything else was as good as it could have been. Delicious, in a way, like an apple plucked straight from the forbidden tree of knowledge.

Because Dr. Ohtori was forbidden, Utena wanted him all the more.

But these things could not last. Even a paradise could become stained by sin.

And even modern mechanisms like patient-doctor professionalism could derail something that someone thought was a fairy-tale in motion.

Utena tried not to think of any of these things - until the day she finally met Anthy Himemiya.

*

A week of isolation had been enough for Dr. Ohtori’s charge, a girl named Anthy who was Utena’s age. The passing resemblance between Anthy and Dr. Ohtori made Utena give pause. It was easy to imagine them as siblings, cousins, maybe even father and daughter if Dr. Ohtori had looked older.

The first time Utena glimpsed the young woman after the end of her isolation period, the girl had been sitting by herself in one of the activity rooms. When a meal tray was brought to her, she upturned it, and Utena saw fleeting glimpses of healed scars running down the girl’s arms. And her screams - they were just as disturbing as the first time Utena had heard them.

Officially, they met during a group therapy session. It had followed one of Utena’s “meetings” with Dr. Ohtori, and she sat down before the overseeing therapist had entered the room.

Anthy’s head lifted, her nose twitching, and her green eyes stared dully into Utena’s. “You smell like him,” she said, her voice vacant and toneless.

Utena felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “What are you talking about?”

A small smile came to the girl’s face, and even that was a disturbing thing on a girl who seemed more doll than human. “You smell like him. Like Onii-sama.”

Before Utena could sputter out a reply, the therapist came inside with the last few stragglers, and group therapy began.

*

That night, right before curfew for the ward, Utena went to Anthy’s room. Though the strange girl still had her bouts of seeming psychosis, she had been moved into a room by her lonesome. Strange, really, since they usually had patients keep an eye on each other as “roommates.”

When Utena snuck into the room, Anthy looked up from a bed scattered with origami paper. It looked like she had already made dozens of cranes.

“Tenjou-san,” the girl said, her face brightening even though Utena was sure this was only the second time they had even met. “Did you come to say good night?”

Utena made sure the hall was empty before she closed the door behind her. “Your brother. Has he - has he talked about me?”

A frown replaced Anthy’s smile. “He has the greatest hope for you,” she said. “Really, it’s a wonder he didn’t find someone sooner. But at least I approve of you.”

Utena’s mind spun with all the possibilities of what those words could mean. “Are you really his little sister?”

Anthy cocked her head. “Whether or not I am, does it matter?”

Utena gritted her teeth, stepping forward and using her arm to dash all the origami paper and the cranes from the bed. “Stop jerking me around! What kind of man would stand by and watch his little sister suffer like this?”

Anthy’s eyes widened - and then she shook her head, a faint smile playing about her mouth. “You know what kind of man my brother is. You knew, Tenjou-san; you just ignored it.”

“I’m not some piece in a game!” Utena kept her head down, fists clenched at her sides, as tears began to leak from her eyes.

“Tenjou-san - no, Utena-san, may I call you that?” Anthy settled onto her knees and leaned forward to grasp her hands along Utena’s face. Then, slowly, she lapped at Utena’s cheeks, catching every tear on her tongue. Utena was too stunned to move away. “Don’t waste your tears. My brother will never change. And you aren’t the first to trust in him wrongly.”

Utena lifted her gaze to stare at Anthy’s open gaze. “Why should I believe you?”

To her surprise, Anthy chuckled. She lifted both of her arms, her faded scars catching the dim light of the room. “I have the scars to prove it, Utena-san.”

Utena might have taken that as the next choice to walk, run, escape, do anything but stand there and listen to Dr. Ohtori’s sister. But there was something about Anthy - something pure, something charming, something…

“You look so much like your brother,” Utena whispered, and this time she ran her fingertips against Anthy’s lips and felt warm breath upon her skin. “Are you a devil here to tempt me?”

Anthy shook her head. “There are only so many true stories out there. You can’t believe every legend or fairy tale you read.”

Utena knew then that she had found something of a kindred - far from what she had been looking for in Dr. Ohtori. If he was the savior who could lift her up from the dregs of her depression, then perhaps Anthy was the angel who would fall with her down to earth. Maybe they would suffer, maybe they would not, but at least she didn’t have to stay in a cage just to be close to a girl like this.

Utena lifted Anthy’s chin and didn’t want to think better of the action as she hungrily captured the other girl’s mouth with hers. Anthy responded by grasping the edges of Utena’s gown, pulling her closer, as if there had been a long time to wait for this moment - when they had really only just met.

It was all so very strange - like a dream where Utena was the puppet and someone else was deciding the story.

“Utena,” Anthy breathed against her mouth.

And then with a spark of recognition - from her name alone - Utena opened her eyes.

The hospital bed was gone, the room was gone, the dankness and depression of the mental health ward was gone.

Now surrounding her were fields and fields of red roses. And Utena still had Anthy’s hands grasped in hers.

“What - what happened?” she asked, feeling as if she had just woken up from a long nap and couldn’t remember having fallen asleep.

Anthy just smiled at her. “You allowed yourself to be found.”

Before Utena could articulate a response, Anthy kissed her again. “We have all the time in the world for me to explain. Just - be with me here, Utena. Just allow yourself to be.”

And Utena found she could not argue, not one bit, because the time for answers would come.

Today was just another new beginning in a sea of beginnings and stories yet told.


End file.
